It Felt So Real
by sugarcanefoxinc
Summary: A strange and somewhat terrifying dream leaves Bree Hodge questioning herself in many aspects of her life, including her thoughts about Katherine Mayfair.
1. Chapter 1

**A|N: **Alright, first post on here! Any and all comments are appreciated, of course; I'd really like feedback on what works, what doesn't, etc. Obviously, this is pretty short, so you can expect a continuation. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy it! -xxx Amelia

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'Don't look so scared,' she said, pushing back a stray section of red hair with the tips of her fingers. 'Don't look at me like that, Bree.' Katherin's smile was small, yet incredibly seductive as she reached down to untie the sash that held her robe taut around her waist. Bree gulped audibly, her emerald eyes as wide as saucers and her porcelain complexion fading to ghost-white. A shaky breath escaped her bubblegum-pink lips. Everything she had grown up with, every belief that her Democrat friends had picked on her for told her to get up and run away while she still had the chance; but something kept her there, something she had not experienced before. She could only watch as Katherine turned to move closer, holding her breath as the woman's lips fell against her own. Somehow, she didn't completely hate it. Another kiss came, this one with Bree's cooperation. The top half of Katherine's robe fell open; Bree only caught a glimpse of flesh, but that was all she needed for now. Katherine's hand found her knee, then began travelling cautiously up her thigh. She continued to come closer, leaning against Bree until the Presbyterian found herself on her back, cheeks smoldering as Katherine hooked a finger nimbly underneath the elastic of her underwear, pulling it from her body until it landed on the floor. Her breath caught in her throat as Katherine's fingers traced back up her leg, pushing up the hem of her skirt.

None of this made any sense. Why wasn't Bree screaming, calling for someone to get Katherine locked back up in the loony bin? Why didn't she fight what was happening?

Why was she beginning to enjoy this?

'See?' Katherine breathed, her slender fingers finally reaching Bree's center. 'It's not so bad, is it?' She wouldn't admit to her guilty pleasure, though; she didn't need to, because every movement that Katherine made sent a shock through her body, a terribly delicious sensation that made her feel more alive than she had in years. It was written all over her face.

She stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, terrified of herself as she found herself more and more unwilling and unable to fight this pleasure. Fulfillment coiled like a snake in her core as Katherine slipped one slick finger inside her, shortly followed by a second digit. Her jaw went slack as she felt the fingers moving deeper in, twisting and curling delicately as the woman pulled back briefly. It was better than listening to Orson talk about homemade dish detergents. An unexpected moan came from her throat, spilling out of her lips like evils from Pandora's box. She caught a wicked grin that flickered on Katherine's face for only a second. The movements quickened and gained force, each thrust of her fingers more delightful than the last. Bree's body tensed. She took a deep breath as she prepared herself, trying her hardest not to completely lose it. Just a little faster, just a little harder, and then—

She woke up.

It took a second for her to realize that she was alone, and that it was only morning. Her heart was still pounding in her chest as she sat up. She was alone. It had only been a dream. Katherine was nowhere to be found ever since she had run off with Robin, without so much as a goodbye. Her forehead barely moved as she realized that she was still aroused, and with no one to solve the problem. Her ring finger was bare again, house empty save herself. She exhaled sharply as she swung her feet from under the covers, rising and heading into the bathroom for a long, hot shower. She had to get those images out of her mind, cleanse herself of whatever it was that had made a romantic endeavor with Katherine Mayfair of all people seem appealing. It just wasn't right. It seared the insides of her eyelids as she closed her eyes, taking her nightgown off before she stepped under a shower of steaming-hot water. The more she tried to distract herself with plans for the day, the more it seemed to clarify, each detail worsening her problem. She was going to lose her mind if this kept up.

Twenty minutes later she shut the water off, squeezing excess water from her hair before she stepped out, wrapping a crisp white towel taut around her body. In the closet she dressed herself in black slacks and a blue silk blouse, short-sleeved to keep her cool in the warm summer air of the Eagle State.

It was just a dream.

Bree dried her hair and dusted on her makeup, clasping a string of pearls around her neck before she headed downstairs for coffee. Her head throbbed as she placed fresh grinds into the percolator, just about ready to give up on her attempts to forget. It couldn't mean anything; she wasn't some sort of lesbian, and even if she was, Katherine was still in Paris, so it wasn't as if she could just jump right on that train.

The trash collectors would be rolling down the lane later in the morning, so she reached underneath the sink to retrieve hers before stepping outside to drop it off in her trash bin. The air was calm, already pleasant against her bare arms. She happened to glance down the block, where a few houses down she caught sight of a black Kia in front of what had been Katherine's house. Her heart stopped. It couldn't be. This was the absolute last thing she needed this morning.

She absolutely wanted to die as Katherine stepped out of the driver's seat, sans stripper, sunglasses concealing her eyes as she paused on the sidewalk, recognized Bree's perfect posture, and approached. It was like watching her own death in slow-motion, knowing what was to come and knowing there was nothing she could do to prevent it.

'Hello, Bree. Did you miss me?'


	2. Chapter 2

Eyes as wide as saucers, Bree's jaw fell slack as she stood, her tall frame still a good two inches or so over the Prodigal Daughter of Wisteria Lane, who wore a pair of crimson heels concealed underneath the length of her black cotton pants.. She clasped her cream-coloured hands in front of her body while she thought of something to say. She didn't want to say she missed Katherine, not after her dream; but in truth, she had. Bree had never been able to talk to Katherine after she had put that long scar into the side of her car. She felt like she had something to apologise for, though she wasn't exactly sure what that was. Maybe for firing her, maybe for not taking care of her while she was having a mental breakdown, maybe for completely avoiding her after the entire neighbourhood had overheard her little spat with Robin. Any of those seemed like a good enough reason for her to feel guilty. Not wanting to be rude, the redhead plastered on half a smile as she answered, 'Yes, Katherine, I did.'

Without missing a beat, Katherine stepped closer, her arms quickly encircling Bree as she pulled the woman into a tight embrace. Her forehead didn't move, but her emerald irises easily displayed the quick transition between emotions: Surprise came first, followed by a brief second of contentment that quickly dissolved into an icy rage. 'What the hell are you doing!' she hissed, pushing the smaller woman gently yet firmly away from her.

Katherine was clearly confused by her actions, palms open and facing upward as she regained her balance. 'Well, I could ask you the same,' she answered. 'I don't understand, Bree—'

'You can't just go around hugging people like that!'

'What are you talking about?' Katherine's gaze shifted from Bree's face to the street, where all else in the neighbourhood was peaceful. The trash had already been taken out, leaving everyone else to their own business. That wouldn't last for long, though; it never did, and that was part of the reason Katherine had left in the first place. It was at this point that the realization came back to her. 'Oh. So that's it,' she finally said, folding her arms across her chest as she turned back to her car. 'Well, I've got some unpacking to do. Come over when you're ready to get off your pedestal, I guess.' Bree didn't move as she watched Katherine head back to her house, empty-handed as she threw the front door shut behind her. She supposed this was the part where she felt horrible and followed her cooling trail, begging forgiveness; and she did feel bad. But she couldn't make herself go groveling yet even if she had wanted to; she felt threatened enough living just a couple of houses down from the woman, going anywhere near her house at this point would be asking for trouble after that dream.

And so, expression just as stoic as it had been before, Bree headed back into her own home, where she was greeted only by empty silence. There was nothing; no husband, no business to distract her from the recurring images that swam through her head, taunting her as if they knew she had no escape. As fate would have it, her eyes fell upon the liquor cabinet; apparently Orson had forgotten all about it in his speedy departure from her life. There were only a few bottles inside the glass cabinet, each in its own varying stage of being used up, each seeming to call her name. That feeling of impending doom returned as she stepped toward it, kneeling down to try the handle.

It was locked.

'Oh, what am I doing?' she breathed for only herself to hear as she returned to the kitchen. Even if she was going to relapse into alcoholism, it was still only ten in the morning; breaking out the Patron so early would only make her more pathetic. Head throbbing, she retrieved a bottle of aspirin from a cupboard and poured herself a glass of water, popping both capsules into her mouth before she took a long sip. She needed to do something, but what could she possibly do? The house was clean, the laundry was folded and put away, the guest bedroom had been relieved of any remnant of Orson Hodge, the test kitchen was all but barren. She hadn't so much as looked at her cooking utensils since giving up the company, save a small pot or pan to make dinner for herself.

She did owe Katherine an apology. And when she put herself in an uncomfortable situation such as this, she often found that baked goods were useful in softening the edges. So for the first time in weeks she put an apron on, entered the test kitchen, and gathered everything she would need to make a batch of red velvet cupcakes, a confection that Katherine had once confessed to be her guilty pleasure.

Inside her home, Katherine stood frigid at the front window, watching through partially closed curtains for Bree to make her exit. Once the sidewalk was empty she returned outside, popping the trunk of her Kia to begin hauling in the few things she had brought back from Paris: two suitcases and a box of books. She hadn't brought anything else with her when she left the Lane, and there had hardly been time for her to collect anything to come back with. It seemed that there would always be something for her to come home to here, whether that something included a person or not. This house felt too big for her to inhabit on her own; solitude was fine for a while, but it wasn't enough to come home to a halfway empty bed. Why couldn't she be content to live for herself, rather than always seeking the company of a man—or woman—to complete her? Why wasn't she enough for herself?

She didn't even feel like she had the energy to take her things upstairs. The whole thing with Bree had given her a feeling that coming back would be tough; if she didn't have a bestfriend anymore, what did that leave her with? At this point, though, anything was better than Paris. Katherine closed her eyes for a long second, collecting herself before she felt ready to open up the cardboard box and begin returning her books to their rightful place on the shelf. There weren't many to put back, only a dozen or so, but at least it would keep her mind occupied for a while. She slipped them into place by name of author, her memory all the while seeming to eat her alive. Perhaps it would do her some good to call up that therapist; or maybe not, considering how quickly the phrase 'I told you so' would fly out of his mouth upon hearing that her relationship with Robin had completely fallen apart in her hands. That certainly wouldn't be of any use to her. It didn't take three hundred dollars' worth of sitting on a couch being droned at for an hour to know that she should have seen the relationship's flaws from the start; she just couldn't believe that those flaws had brought it to an end so quickly.

Katherine didn't even notice the tears flowing from her eyes until one made it to the line of her jaw. She stared blankly at nothing for a short while before she had the thought to react, using her fingertips to brush the water away. How long would it be before she could get a grip on herself?

The thought was postponed as a knock on the door brought her back to reality. She didn't want to answer, but with her car parked out front it wasn't exactly as if she could pretend to not be home. The aching in her chest returned as she caught a glimpse of bright red hair through the window. What could that woman possibly want now?

Her face returned to stone as she opened the door partway. 'Yes, Bree?' she said, ice coming through her voice despite the moment she had faced inside.

Bree paused for a second before she began to speak, eyes on the basket that hung off the crook of her elbow.. 'Well, it occurred to me that I was terribly rude to you earlier, and…I'm sorry.' The last two words came out of her mouth the same way she would have said _morbidly obese_. 'So I brought these over,' she continued, offering Katherine the warm basket she held, 'to welcome you back home.'

Silence fell between them as Katherine took the basket, lifting the lid to inspect the cupcakes inside. 'Are they poisoned?' she asked, hoping Bree would get the joke; she did, but didn't quite think it was as funny as Katherine did. 'Come inside,' Katherine finally added, putting on a warm smile. 'Let's talk.' As much as she felt like it was a bad idea, Bree couldn't say no. She stepped over the threshold, feeling as if she had given up all control over her fate as the door closed behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

The basket of cupcakes had to wait on the counter for a minute, as Bree insisted that the least she could do in an attempt to continue her atonement was help Katherine take her suitcases upstairs to her bedroom. Neither of them, Bree least of all, felt any particular need to stay in that area of the house, so they quickly moved back down into the kitchen, where they both felt most at home. Katherine wasted no time in taste-testing her cupcakes, having half-devoured her first one before Bree could even sit down at the table next to her. 'Oh, my God,' she moaned, her words muffled by the piece of food she had yet to swallow. 'This is so good. Have you had one? Have one.'

'Oh, no, thank you. I'm really not—'

'Bree. Eat. The cupcake.' With a hard blink she gave in, delicately pulling one from the basket to take a bite. It _was_ good, if she did say so herself. 'So, tell me,' Katherine continued as she started on her second confection, 'how is the company?'

'I don't know. I sold it.'

'What? Why?'

'Oh, you know, I just felt like it was time. It's not as if I can't just start a new one as soon as I want to, anyways.' Bree waved her hand casually, as if she needed to emphasise her point that this was not a big deal for her. In truth, she had taken a good fifteen minutes to herself to cry before returning back into the house, where Orson had already begun to prepare his departure. The company had been her baby for so long, handing it all over to Sam felt like she had sent Little Orphan Annie back to Miss Hannigan (though she detested the analogy; that musical did nothing for her emotionally). 'How was Paris? Susan said that's where you went.'

'It was fine, I guess. Looks exactly like it does on the postcards.' Katherine moved to retrieve two glasses from the cupboard above her coffeemaker, filling each with water before she returned to sit across from Bree. She lifted the rim of the glass to her lips, taking a short sip of the crisp, refreshing liquid before she spoke again. 'How's Orson?'

'I don't know. He left me.'

'What? Why?'

'There were a lot of reasons. Selling the company was just the final straw, I suppose.' Bree took a sip from her glass, her face still relatively emotionless as she set it back down on the table. 'We really didn't have much of a marriage left, especially after the plane crash…What happened to Robin?'

'I don't know. I left her.'

'Why?'

'I came home from buying groceries one afternoon and found her in bed with the, ah, performance artist who lived in the apartment above us.'

Their eyes met; perhaps it was the first time they had really looked at one another that day. It made Bree uncomfortable. She averted her emerald eyes to focus on her fingernails, one of which had a tiny chip that had snagged on her underwear while she was getting dressed; she would have to remember to file it down as soon as she got back home. The redhead took a long drag off of her water, clearing her throat after she swallowed. 'Well, I really am sorry to hear about that.'

'I'll get over it. And I'm sorry about Orson. If it helps, I didn't like him much, anyways.'

She offered a small smirk to Bree, her eye catching a small speck of frosting that had settled on the woman's lip. Without hesitation Katherine reached across the table, using her middle finger to wipe it away before Bree could realize what was happening. It wasn't until after the fact that Bree found herself hopelessly fighting the surge of blood to her porcelain cheeks while the nerves of her mouth feasted on the brief moment of contact. None of that should have happened, and the knowledge of this made her stomach do a somersault. She had no clue as to what she was supposed to do next: Did she need to excuse herself from the house, or would she be able to sit through it until she went home later? As strange as it felt to be in Katherine's presence after that dream, it wasn't as if she had anyone to come home to anymore; the house was simply empty, completely void of anything that might have enticed her back in. Either way, she would have to face some form of frustration.

Of course, Katherine's eyes immediately zoned in on the new colour that had appeared on Bree's cheeks. It wasn't as if she hadn't taken something off of Bree's face before, considering how much time they had spent together in the test kitchen working on their recipes, and Bree had done the exact same thing to her on numerous occasions, none of which resulted in the redhead appearing so embarrassed. 'Are you alright?' she asked.

'Yes, I'm fine.'

She cocked an eyebrow. Something was different, and Katherine knew all too well that simply asking would not give her an answer. She had to be smarter, craftier than that. She had to find a way to make Bree tell her without making her feel like she was being forced to spill her guts. So she took another cupcake from the basket. 'Really, Bree,' she began, drawing her index finger straight across the confection's diameter, 'I can't tell you how great these things are. I'm sure they'll go straight to my hips, but…' Her tongue appeared from between her lips as she slowly dragged her finger across, closing her eyes, licking up every trace of frosting she could find before she looked up; it took a lot of strength to resist the urge to burst out in laughter at Bree's face, emerald eyes the size of saucers. 'I just can't help myself. I haven't had anything to eat since I left Paris, and travel has always made me very hungry.'

'Yes,' Bree responded shortly, her voice an octave higher than usual, 'it's incredible how draining ten hours of sitting in an uncomfortable seat can be—'

'God, that was awful, too! Nowhere to go, no one to talk to. You just sit there, breathing recycled air, hoping to God that you packed everything, wishing you could fall asleep but knowing that would be a bad idea, seeing as the guy across the aisle had been giving you a funny look ever since you boarded the damn plane. Well, this time, at least.' She got up, casually making her way to the refrigerator. 'And it got so hot,' she continued, throwing the freezer door open as she leaned just enough inside to chill her chest. She could easily catch Bree looking through her peripherals, her pink cheeks now draining to ghost-white. This was more fun than she had expected. 'Oh, this feels so good.' She paused there, closing her eyes briefly before she glanced back at Bree. 'Bree, are you sure you're alright? You look as if you're about to faint!'

She certainly felt like it; what the hell was Katherine doing, licking her fingers clean like some sort of feral animal, leaning over the freezer to make…_things_…happen! It wouldn't have been such an issue if she hadn't had that stupid dream, but now she couldn't stop staring, and she couldn't tell if it was because she was so shocked or because there was a possibility that she had some sort of deep, unknown desire for it. The fact that she thought there could even be a possibility of that made her sick to her stomach.

'Bree? Bree, you're starting to scare me.' Bree started slightly as she found Katherine kneeling beside her now, doe eyes opened wide with concern as she reached for her hand. 'Bree, what's the matter?' Even this was too much, to feel the warmth of her satin-soft hand, to hear Katherine saying her name over and over again. Were it not for her stoicism she might have burst into tears by now. 'Bree, listen, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have teased you like that, I know. I know, I'm sorry. We used to be friends, Bree. We used to tell eachother everything. Just tell me what it is that's been bothering you.'

Jaw slack, Bree could only stare at the woman in silence for a minute. There was no way in hell she was about to tell Katherine about her dream, about the fact that since she had woken up that morning she had found herself completely unable to get those images out of her mind, incapable of distracting herself from the was she had felt upon first bursting into consciousness.

'Bree, is it me?' She frowned slightly in confusion, calling upon Katherine to elaborate. 'Is it…that I left Fairview to be with a woman?

'Of course not! Don't say that, Katherine, please. It—It's nothing, I promise. I just haven't been sleeping very well lately.'

'We both know that isn't it, though. Why can't you just tell me?'

'I just can't. I'm sorry.' Bree rose cautiously, as if she could fall over at any moment, causing Katherine to instinctively take hold of her forearm. 'Maybe later…Much, much later…But you have to believe me, it's not about Robin.' Eyes on her shoes, Bree all but raced for the front door, her long legs taking her with quick strides back to her house. Katherine watched her through the window the entire way, worry throbbing between her eyes.

Each in their own houses, they went upstairs to their own bedrooms, each shedding her own tears for the other.


	4. Chapter 4

A night passed slowly, the day's events leaving Katherine and Bree equally restless. Katherine was heartbroken with her impression of Bree's disdain; Bree couldn't rid her mind of the images that threatened to undo her sanity completely. Neither woman could comprehend what she had done, what mistake she possibly could have made to deserve this unfair occurrence. Neither got more than a wink of sleep; while Katherine tossed and turned under the covers, Bree lay perfectly still in her halfway empty bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Dawn seemed as if it would take forever to arrive.

As the sun crept through the space between the curtains it slowly warmed the bed of Katherine Mayfair, who despite her fatigue continued to fight a losing battle against the emotions that kept her awake. At this point, it looked like there would be no rest for the weary. The most she could do was pour herself a cup of coffee and hope that nobody was planning a 'Welcome Home' party; celebration, after all, was the absolute last thing on her mind. Katherine finally forced herself out of bed, picking her robe up from the foot of the bed as she made her way to the master bathroom. A shower would certainly give her a boost of energy, at least until she had some fuel in her body. The shower turned on and her bedclothes came off, delicately being tossed into a small pile on the floor before she stepped under the steaming water. She could all but feel her pores opening up, her muscles loosening and dropping some of the tension that they had been carrying since she came back to Wisteria Lane. Katherine allowed herself to remain still underneath the showerhead for a good silent minute before she began that wonderful routine of cleansing, of scouring and caressing her body until every inch felt completely renewed. Something about water, the connotations of change, redemption, rebirth had always had this therapeutic effect on her; there had been times back when she was younger—particularly during her marriage to Wayne—that she had spent hours locked up in there, water pouring over her until the air was so heavy with steam that she could no longer breathe. The temperature was irrelevant; an ice-cold shower could satisfy the need to be clean just as easily as near-scalding water.

The other benefit of a long shower was that as she washed herself it was not only her pores but her mind as well that seemed to open, to relax, to allow her to think about things without having to face the emotional turmoil that came along with such thought. Bree Hodge, of course, was on her mind. Katherine, for the life of her, still could not wrap her head around an idea that could explain why she had been so upset. Had the teasing really made her that upset? She couldn't imagine why it would. The only thing she knew for sure was that she wouldn't be playing any more tricks for a while; if she wanted an honest answer out of Bree, maybe this time she would have to ask honestly herself.

With that issue resolved, Katherine rinsed the suds of her body wash from her skin, which by now had absorbed the light scent of fresh flowers with a hint of sugar. She shut the water off, pushing the glass door aside to reach for a towel. The excess water in her hair was still warm as she wrung it out, then bent forward to towel-dry her thick locks. A minute later she was out of the bathroom, knotting the sash of her robe tautly around the smallest section of her waist. She parted her damp hair on the left side, using her fingers to comb a lightweight anti-frizz product into the strands before she began the somewhat tedious process of blow-drying. She hated to do it, but if she didn't it would be hours before her thick mane became dry. The instant a satisfactory state had been reached she plugged in her curling iron, using it only to fix up a few misshapen curls. A light dose of makeup was applied, and before she knew it she was looking at a face that could make anyone believe that she had slept easily. From her closet she retrieved a fairly modest pale blue scoop-neck shirt whose sleeves stopped just above the elbow, which she paired with a nondescript pair of deep blue jeans; no need to dress up if she was just going to hang around the neighbourhood, mostly her own house.

She slipped her feet into dark sneakers before heading downstairs for a cup of coffee, adding to the brew a dash of cinnamon that not only boosted flavor but also kept her metabolism running at a respectable rate. The air around her was still as she took in that first energizing sip, welcoming the warm aroma and familiar taste openly. Katherine was the sort of woman who liked to enjoy her morning cup, rather than attempting to chug it down while zipping through cross-town traffic with someone droning into her ear via Bluetooth; the way she saw it, the whole point of this part of the day was to continue the reset that came from sleep, especially if little sleep had been obtained during the night hours. And so, she continued to remain in her place, leaning casually against the kitchen counter as she made the most of her coffee. Eventually, though, the cup became empty, and it was time to enter the real world, to some degree at least. God knows the clothes she had brought home would need to be laundered. That would be an easy enough task. After rinsing her cup and placing it in the rack to dry, Katherine returned upstairs to open up her suitcase, separating her clothes into lights, darks, and colours before she tossed them into their appropriate laundry baskets. She started by throwing her light load into the washing machine, and before ten-thirty she was putting her darks into the dryer, hanging up certain garments while others were folded and placed into their respective drawers.

Katherine glanced outside to find the block still empty. None of her other chores needed to be taken care of immediately; perhaps this would be the appropriate time to pay Bree a visit and make one more effort to find out what was troubling her. She exited her home somewhat cautiously, hoping to avoid another one of her neighbours noticing her and instantly being thrown into the game of catch-up. She absolutely dreaded the moment that the other ladies on the Lane were made aware of the things that had gone down in Gay Paris; few things spread faster than gossip, especially on a street like this. Fortunately, she managed to reach Bree's home without drawing attention to herself—_wasn't that quite a change!_—and knocked on the woman's door. Bree was nothing if not predictable; there could be absolutely no excuse for her not to be awake at this time of day, and her Lexus was still parked out front. In truth, she was surprised she didn't start parking the thing under cover after the nice little scar Katherine had drawn across its glossy length; but then, with the test kitchen, it wasn't as if she had much extra space on the property.

As the door opened she started slightly, flashing a warm, brilliant smile in her neighbour's direction. 'Bree, hi,' she began, 'I just wanted to check up on you, make sure you're alright. I was really worried after you left, I—' Katherine's train of thought was interrupted by something inside the house that had caught her eye; a brief gleam of light, like the reflection of sunlight off of a wine bottle. 'Do you mind if I come inside?'

'I'm a little busy, Katherine. Maybe this afternoon.'

Their eyes met, this time out of suspicion yet equally uncomfortable as their moment the previous day. 'Bree.' Her voice was quiet, but still held plenty of force behind it. 'I'm coming inside.' She moved her small frame through the doorway before Bree could object, making a beeline toward the coffee table where, just as she suspected, one of her worst fears had brought itself back to life. In one hand she picked up a mostly-full bottle of Pursued By Bear cabernet, the other raising a crystal wineglass containing the bottle's missing contents. Slowly, with purpose, she faced about, watching Bree close the door. Katherine's irises had darkened, her pupils dilated slightly. 'Tell me this isn't what it is.' The silence that followed felt like a punch to her gut. An impatient breath hissed from her lips; her stare burned into Bree's own eyes for another second before she made a beeline for the kitchen sink.

'Katherine, don't you dare.'

The containers clinked loudly as she set them in the sink, turning the top half of her body to give her answer. 'For God's sake, Bree, you're an alcoholic! Why wouldn't I?' She turned back around to tilt the wineglass, pouring its maroon contents directly into the drain as heavy footsteps approached. Katherine whipped her body around once more just as a delicate hand gripped her shoulder firmly, reaching her own hand out to snag a thick section of crimson hair at the crown of Bree's head. She winced slightly as Katherine applied force, pressing Bree's head lower until the height difference had been eliminated. 'Look at me, Bree.' She resisted, leaving Katherine no choice but to give her a good yank. 'Look. At. Me.' No matter how much as Mayfair might have fought it, water had formed in a glossy veil over her eyes. 'What could I possibly have done to make you do this?' Her free hand reached behind her into the sink, picking up the dark bottle and inverting it, the sound of expensive wine sloshing away filling the silence for a long minute. 'Bree, I swear to God, if I have to stay here all night, I am not leaving this house until you tell me what the hell is going on.' Bottom lip trembling slightly, she loosened her grip on the woman, digging her canines into her cheek in an attempt to prevent her tears from falling. She crossed back into the parlour, seating herself delicately on the loveseat, hands folded while she waited.


	5. Chapter 5

Bree Hodge was nothing if not strong-willed.

For a good three-and-a-half hours she kept her routine the same as it would be any other day, going through her chores, all the while feeling Katherine Mayfair's eyes burn a hole into the back of her head. She could have left, but by the time she came back the woman could well have thrown her entire liquor cabinet out the window! Instead she opted to wait her out, hoping that as long as she did what she did best—act as if there was nothing wrong—she would simply give a short please-don't-do-that-again speech and go back home. This quickly proved to be a miscalculation. The woman hardly seemed to blink at all in that time, between watching Bree polish the silver and watching her dispose of the milk in the refrigerator that was still a few days away from its expiration date (she could _feel_ it going bad). Eventually, though, she ran out of distractions, forcing her to address the issue of the subject of either her greatest sex dream or worst nightmare taking up space on her loveseat. 'Katherine, go home.'

'Why, so you can crack another bottle?'

'Well, there's no need to put it so harshly. You sound like you just came back from the ghetto, not Paris.' A light sigh escaped her lips as she took a seat beside Katherine. 'Alright,' she said, her voice a hushed murmur, 'I'm sorry. I won't do it again.' Silence fell between them; Bree's throat grew sore the instant she happened to catch at glimpse of her neighbour's face, ridden with frustration and pain that nothing could ever fully conceal. Had it not been for the dream, she would have taken Katherine's hands in her s and told her that she would do anything to make it up; had it not been for the dream, Katherine wouldn't have been this upset in the first place. 'You know I would love to tell you what's going on. Really, I would. I'm just not ready yet. You have to give me time.'

'Bree! You freaked out on me twice yesterday. And now when I come over to apologise, to try and help my best friend, I find her with a bottle of wine after she _promised_ me that she would never touch alcohol again. Your time is up. I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong. It's not going to get better unless you give me a chance to help fix it.'

Bree shifted her body to the opposite end of the loveseat, farther away from Katherine. It was becoming apparent that simply keeping her mouth closed would not do the trick; one way or another she would have to get this over with. 'It's just so embarrassing,' she began, emerald eyes glued to her knees. 'Nothing like this had ever happened before. I just had this dream, and you were in it…'

'What kind of dream?'

She drew in a slow breath. '…We were upstairs in your bedroom, and you were in your robe. And you were…you were kissing me. And I was kissing you, and you were…doing things.' Her cheeks reddened, her face holding an expression similar to the one she wore watching security footage of Katherine and Mike in the test kitchen. 'And I didn't do anything. I didn't try to make it stop.'

'Oh.' Katherine cocked an eyebrow, her own mind now flooded with the steamy image of herself and Bree together. She flushed slightly, unable to deny to herself that the thought wasn't at all unappealing. In fact, it sounded pretty good…But now was certainly not the time to worry about such a thing; her job for now was to comfort Bree, to assure her that no such thing would happen as long as she didn't want it to. 'Well…When you woke up, what did you feel?'

'Frustration.' Whether the source was the dream as a whole or simply that it had ended in such an inconvenient spot still had to be determined. 'But I thought I'd be able to get over it soon enough because you were off in Paris with Robin, and then not an hour later I was taking out the trash and there you are! And now it's all I can think about.' She gestured toward the now-empty coffee table. 'I mean, I've obviously had these sorts of dreams about men before…this one just felt so real. I just thought that maybe I could forget it for a while.'

'Oh, Bree,' Katherine sighed, her eyes all the while tracing the outline of Bree's body. _God damn it, this is not going to be easy._ 'I'm so sorry. That must have been horrible for you. But, you know, it's not going to come true if you don't want it to. I'm your friend, Bree, first and foremost. You know that even if a drink does make you forget, that's only going to last for a little while, and when it comes back it'll be so much worse. I just don't want you to do something you'll regret later on.' She forced a small smile, patting Bree's shoulder gently. 'Well, if you need some space, I can—'

'Oh, I don't think that's necessary. Actually, it's been nice to have someone around…even if you were making me a bit crazy.' They shared a small laugh. 'Actually, Katherine, do you think you could help me with something?'

'Anything.'

'It's just that when Orson left, he didn't take his liquor cabinet with him. It's locked, but I do have a pick in my office. Think you could help me get rid of it?'

'Of course, Bree.' Her smile warmed as the redhead rose to her feet, excusing herself to go find her lock pick; only Bree Hodge would keep one in her office, probably next to some spare rifle ammunition. Katherine raked her fingers through her hair, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. It was as if that dream were infectious; now she couldn't get these images out of her mind, of her best friend on her back, long limbs stretched out as she lay naked in bed, on top of the kitchen counter—anywhere, really, as long as she was naked. It made something in her chest seize, in a way that was not dissimilar to what she had felt upon waking up from her first dream about Robin. But that couldn't be right, could it? Bree was her closest friend; they had to be more like sisters than anything.

She was back in no time, forcing Katherine to at least attempt to put the thought out of her mind for a while. Bree led the way to the liquor cabinet, kneeling in front of its oak-framed glass doors to pick the lock and open it up. They took one bottle per hand, each possessing its own individual weight as they took them all to the sink. One-by-one they removed each bottle's cap and cork, amber, clear, and blue liquids swirling together on their way down the drain, creating a noxious odor. Between the two of them it only took a few minutes to rid the house of every alcoholic substance in it, but for Katherine Mayfair it felt like hours; Bree's hip would brush innocently against her, causing her neck to flush; it was pure fortune that Bree didn't notice, or else they would have had an even bigger mess on their hands tonight. Katherine put together a bleach solution to freshen the sink once every bottle was emptied, then took the glass out to Bree's recycling bin while it set in. She felt better, but still couldn't help but wonder at the change in her emotions. Would the phase pass with time, or would this only get worse?

'Well,' Bree sighed, folding her arms over her chest as she watched Katherine return inside, 'are you hungry? I wasn't going to do anything big, but I do have some whitefish I've wanted to try out.'

_No, thank you, I'm actually kinda worn out now from undressing you with my eyes._

'Sounds great, Bree. If you'd like, I have an excellent recipe I picked up in Chicago.' Katherine stepped into the kitchen, instantly heading to the pantry while Bree retrieved the meat. After grabbing a few various spices and eggs from the refrigerator, the smaller woman washed her hands free of any remaining trace of alcohol or bleach and began to whisk together a light batter. She brushed it onto each side of the fish before laying it down in a pan that had been set over a flame on the gas stove. Within a few minutes each piece had cooked to perfection, sliding easily from the pan to each plate.

Katherine took the food into the dining room, Bree following closely with water. The table was smaller than she remembered, due to the fact that Bree had taken out one of the leaves that she normally kept in for larger dinner parties; since Orson had left, she hadn't been in much of a mood to throw a party. Katherine took a seat across from Bree, already able to see that this situation was trouble waiting to happen: the slightly dimmed lighting gave a subtle glow to Bree's porcelain complexion, emphasized by her hair.

_Maybe this wasn't such a good idea,_ they thought simultaneously, Katherine raising her glass to her lips while Bree speared a piece of fish onto her fork.

They made their way quietly through the meal, mostly reserving their conversation to topics centering around the food: 'This is fantastic,' Bree commented, using her fork to point to her plate.

'Thank you,' Katherine responded, 'it's actually really simple, and not horrible for your waistline.' _Not that you have to worry about that._

The evening moved forward, and it wasn't long before they were taking their dishes to the kitchen, rinsing each article quickly before Bree placed it in her dishwasher. 'Well, I best be going,' Katherine sighed. 'I think I'm gonna turn in a bit early.

'Alright.' Bree stepped in front of Katherine on their way to the door, pulling the smaller woman into a warm embrace. 'Thank you for not leaving me alone.'

'Of course, Bree. Take care of yourself.'

They separated a second later. Katherine raised her hand in half a wave on her way out, offering a warm smile as she stepped down from the porch to the walkway, hurrying back home unnoticed. Bree closed the door quietly behind her before locking her home up, flicking the lights off, and moving upstairs to crawl into bed. Katherine, upon reaching her own home, did the same. And as they slipped themselves underneath the covers, resting their heads against the pillow, they both thought the same thing: _I wonder if she felt that, too._


	6. Chapter 6

The Mayfair home was silent aside from the incessant sound of rustling sheets in the master bedroom. Katherine tossed and turned in her sleep, unable to rid her mind of the image presented to her: It was Bree, and it was like nothing before; the closest thing she could compare it to was her first dream of Robin. The image itself wasn't entirely clear, actually. All she could get out of it was that they were together, they were in, and whatever they were doing—that part was blurry—was beyond anything she had felt in her fantasies. She woke finally with a start, eyes as wide as saucers as she regained her bearings, staring up into the perpetual darkness. Her jaw fell slack, nerves alive as they took in the feeling of her own hair brushing against her cheek, the back of her nightgown clinging to her flesh, bound by the tiniest amount of sweat. Breath swept fluidly into her lungs, chest rising and falling heavily with every inhale and exhale, enriching with oxygen the blood that now pulsed fiercely through her veins. Without a consultation from her mind her hand slipped underneath the sheets, pushing the silk of her bedclothes away from her bare thigh. Her fingers were cool against her own warm flesh as she moved across it. A single digit slipped between her legs, ghosting across her most sensitive flesh, nerves going half-wild, causing a short burst of air to catch in her throat.

She gave up. It wouldn't be enough, not after all of that. The only way it would be required another person, and that person was more than likely sound asleep, completely oblivious to the need that had built up within Katherine Mayfair. Sleep would not be coming, either.

And so she threw back the sheets, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed as she rose to her feet, peeling the nightgown from her body on her way to the bathroom. Katherine leaned over the bathtub, starting a hot shower before she stepped in. The water splattered over her body, causing her skin to tense; it didn't help the way she was feeling, not one bit. She squeezed some lilac soap into her hand, spreading the translucent purple liquid across her body with the hope that the relaxing scent would be enough to put her back to sleep. This did not happen. Frustration, both sexual and otherwise, began to take over, worse than usual due to her fatigue. There was nothing in the world that she could do about it. She had already been thrown in the loony bin once; marching over to her neighbour's house and planting a kiss on the poor woman would certainly put her back there one way or another, and that was something she simply could not handle. Katherine ached even as she ran a soapy hand over her thigh, desperate to feel someone else's flesh there rather than her own.

How had she even come to be like this? She honestly couldn't recall ever looking at Bree in that manner, wondering what she looked like naked or what she liked to do when she was naked. She had always thought of the fellow redhead as a beautiful person, certainly a beautiful woman, but the attraction had never been in any way sexual before now.

_It's all because of that dream she told me about._

She rinsed the soap from her body and shut the water off. After reaching for a clean towel on the bar outside of the shower she squeezed the excess water from her hair and rubbed her body dry, stepping cautiously out of the tub with the towel wrapped around her torso. Leaning against the counter, she reached for a bottle of lotion, squeezing out a palmful before she slathered it over her bare legs. She could feel her eyes drooping, every square inch of skin protesting the fact that she was awake and moving at this time, but what else could she do? The stress of not moving was far worse in that it forced her to think. It forced her to reflect on the past few months and how she might have completely wasted it on a much younger woman who in truth hadn't done much other than show a side of her sexuality that she had not before explored. Their emotional connection had obviously not been nearly as strong as Katherine had thought, or else she wouldn't have caught the blonde in bed with another woman. And even then, Katherine knew she was still a sucker for the opportunity to play martyr; no matter how many times a person hurt her, she would always come back to them like an abused puppy if it meant another chance for them to love her. It was pathetic, she knew, but what she didn't know was how to change that pattern.

A weary sigh escaped her lips as the lotion absorbed into her skin, returning to the bedroom to retrieve a fresh nightgown before she went down to the kitchen. A cup of warm milk had done the trick to soothe her nerves since she was a little girl, and if it didn't do the trick tonight she would know there was something terribly off. She took out a saucepan and carton of milk, pouring just enough in before she turned the stove on. Katherine leaned against the kitchen counter, dissatisfied with the way her mind instantly went to her neighbour. Bree probably looked beautiful when she slept, more at ease than she ever could be in the presence of another person. She knew the woman much better than to believe everything in her life was the way she wanted it to look, and today had been a piece of prime evidence in support of that.

_We're the same, Bree._

And yet at the same time, they were so different. Never in her life had Katherine known Bree to cause a scene, to cry out for any sort of help, to even imply that things were not alright. She, on the other hand, had managed to kill the holiday cheer with a self-inflicted knife to the chest and later on a trip to the mental hospital. So much screaming, so much crying. The things people probably still said about her. That was certainly something she didn't want to think about at the moment. Her thoughts returned to Bree. What did she wear to bed? Probably something cotton; breathable, sensible, especially since she was all alone in that house now. The poor woman; though something had always irked Katherine about Orson, it was clear that Bree had tried to make things work between them. It almost gave her a stomach ache to think about what she would give right now to go over there and crawl in bed next to her. Even if they didn't actually do anything, it would certainly be nice to not be alone, to be with someone she could trust.

_I could just plead insanity; at this point, I'm sure it wouldn't be much of a stretch._

She turned the stove off, dumping the contents of the pan into the sink. Her stomach churned with nerves as she walked toward the door, heart picking up speed as she slid her feet into sandals and slipped her arms into the sleeves of her coat. Outside, the street was quiet, illuminated only by the widely-spaced streetlamps. Whatever logic she might have still possessed was quickly fading with every step she took. Before she knew it, Katherine found herself in front of Bree's door, knuckles rapping against the wood before she could even think of stopping herself. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights as Bree appeared in front of her, obviously sleep-deprived in her—of course—cotton pajamas.

'Katherine, it's past midnight! What are you doing here?'

There was a moment of silence before she said, 'Can I come in?'

She nodded, opening the door further to allow Katherine access. The shorter redhead folded her arms over her chest, weary eyes meeting one another. She could feel her heart quicken pace, which in turn caused her stomach to ache. That wasn't supposed to happen. The last time she had felt feelings like this was right before she told Robin to leave, which had inevitably led to the two women hopping in bed together. How was she supposed to react to that? She knew her feelings for the blonde had been genuine, but it didn't help to know how that fling had ended. And Bree…Compared to Robin, Bree was another species entirely. Certainly not flawless, but about as close as any human being could be. At least, if she was going to cheat on someone, she had the decency to not use the bed they shared.

'I can't sleep.'

Bree wore a worried expression as Katherine approached her, silence thickening the air between them. She hesitated to take the taller woman's hand. Her eyes flickered to the floor before meeting Bree's electric emerald orbs once again. It was as if they could communicate without talking, through their eyes and their fingertips.

_I can't sleep because my mind is filled with images of you._

Before she could stop herself, Katherine stretched upward, her lips meeting Bree's for a lingering second. She had half-expected to be slapped by this point, but the sting never came; rather, she was allowed the indulgence that was the taste of Bree's lips, faint in the mildness of their contact, but enough that she received the sensation of spearmint. They finally broke apart, jaws slack and eyes wide as they stared at one another in disbelief. In her peripheral vision she could see Bree's chest heaving silently underneath her pajamas, lungs working to provide sufficient oxygen for her to process what had just happened. Katherine was fairly certain she was doing the same thing, but hadn't the nerve to avert her eyes. The seconds felt like hours as they ticked by, measured audibly by the clock in the dining room.

'Bree?'

Their hands were still joined. Bree remained silent, finally snapping her mouth shut. Her cheeks smoldered with the blood that pooled under her thin porcelain flesh, eyes dropping to her bare feet. The polish on her second toe was chipped; a blister had formed after catering a Bat Mitzvah in her newest Louboutins, and had yet to heal. These, however, were the least of her concerns. She had just kissed her best friend. Or had Katherine kissed her? Katherine had kissed her, but that didn't make it any less terrifying. No, what made her heart tremble was the fact that she hadn't pulled away; that she hadn't done everything in her power to rid herself of the taste of sweet cinnamon coffee, an unmistakable brew that could only have been poured by the woman in front of her.

She hadn't objected; but had she liked it? There was only one way to find out.

It felt like re-committing the Original Sin as she dipped her head forward, closing her eyes until their lips came together once again. They stayed there longer, long enough this time that the tingling feeling below her stomach could give her the answer she searched for, even if it wasn't necessarily the one she wanted: She had definitely liked it. Bree stepped closer, encouraging the smaller woman forward until there was hardly any space between them. They kissed again. Katherine's hands planted themselves on Bree's waist, gripping her gently. And again; Bree's palm contoured gently to the shape of the smaller woman's cheek, thumb ghosting across the prominent outline of bone underneath flesh. Slowly they came to a halt, their faces separating just enough to look at eachother once again.

Bree's hand dropped to take one of Katherine's before moving backward, leading toward the stairs. Katherine had no other option than to follow; how could resist such a tempting offer when she had never expected it at all to begin with? The trip upstairs seemed to blow by, and before she knew it Bree was pulling her down to sit on the edge of the bed next to her. Their lips met again. Blindly their hands found one another's waists, each pulling the other closer until they tipped backward, hips meeting one another as their heads met the mattress. Katherine took the initiative, considering that while she was certainly far from being an expert in these things, she at least had experience. She used her weight to press Bree onto her back, her knee sinking into the space between the taller woman's legs. There was no chance of suppressing the moan that rose up from her throat.

But then the kissing slowed, mostly caused by Bree, and it was her heart that was now sinking. She could just hear the excuses now: _This whole thing is a mistake, Katherine. It was just a dream, it didn't mean anything. None of this means anything. We're lonely, and we're going about this all the wrong way. I'm not a lesbian, Katherine. I love you, but not like this. You're nothing more than a sister to me, and that's how it should be._

'Katherine…' Bree waited for their eyes to lock. Her cheeks smoldered with arousal, but her emerald eyes were full of apology. 'I can't. Tonight. I'm sorry, I'm just so tired.'

It took a second for her to respond. 'Of course.' She moved off of Bree, pushing her mess of damp hair out of her face. Katherine rose to her feet, halfway to the door before the sound of Bree's voice stopped her.

'Katherine—Do you think…you could stay…here, with me?'

She turned around, the warm smile returning to her lips. 'Of course, Bree.' Katherine closed the door, watching as Bree slid underneath the covers before crawling in next to her, reaching for the lamp, turning it out to leave them in the peaceful darkness. Her eyes adjusted enough for her to plant one last kiss on Bree's forehead before settling in, her arm reaching across her slender waist as she closed her eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

As with every other day, Bree woke with the sunrise, its rays already working to warm the streets of Fairview, making the harsh fluorescent glow of streetlamps unnecessary. She stretched and turned over, almost surprised to realize that her bed was not halfway empty, as she had become accustomed to. Katherine Mayfair was still asleep, dark curls splayed wildly across the pillow, her arm extended across Bree's waist. She started to smile, but hesitated as the night before flooded into her memory. The first kiss; the second and third, and however many came after that. The heat that had radiated between their bodies, the temptation to take things even further, and then falling asleep together. None of it made any more sense than it had before, and yet she could still recall how good it had felt. It still felt wonderful now to have that delicate hand resting limp on her hip. But what could have possibly caused this sudden transition? What had been the catalyst that brought her from a peculiar sex dream to waking up next to the object of that dream? She had once told Katherine that she loved her, but at the time she had meant it in the context of a sisterly affection; even though they sometimes quarreled, she would always care for and be there for her.

Had she unknowingly meant it in a different context?

With a sharp inhale Katherine stirred, taking her sweet time as she came into consciousness. Her eyes flickered slowly open, her first sight being Bree's shoulder. 'Mm, good morning,' she groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a second as she yawned. Katherine rolled onto her stomach, propping her chin up on a closed fist. She studied Bree's expression carefully, finding it difficult to draw any sort of conclusion. The air between them was silent, tense, but still less tense than what she might have expected. Voice as soft as she could make it, she finally asked, 'What are you thinking?'

More silence. Bree stared blankly at the ceiling, her mind rushing through emptiness. She didn't know what she was thinking or even what she was supposed to think. Her past told her that she needed to get this woman out of her bed as fast as possible and find something (alcohol aside) to take her mind off of this whole huge mistake. Her heart, however, felt like it was still swelling from the night before, craving one more kiss, one more little touch. It seemed as if it was threatening to burst through her ribs if she didn't reach over and take that thing which she wanted, even though she knew all too well that she shouldn't. 'I—I don't know.'

Katherine sighed quietly, reaching with her free hand to grasp Bree's. Their thin fingers entwined without difficulty. She leaned over the redhead, their eyes meeting half-nervously. 'I don't want to pressure you into anything you're not comfortable with, Bree...But...I saw your face last night, I felt the way you kissed me, and I know how I felt when I kissed you. It's not a mistake.' She watched Bree's emerald eyes fill with water, her motions growing urgent as she sat up. 'Bree, what is it?' She fell silent for a moment, studying Bree's face once again before she finally found the emotion she had been unable to place.

It was fear, pure and simple, and Katherine understood it perfectly: the fear of what others would think, of destroying whatever shred of dignity was left. It was very much real to her, even though recent generations had made a trend of throwing self-respect to the wind. To see Bree so distraught felt like she had stabbed herself all over again, re-opening that not-so-old wound. She knew that those who loved Bree would continue to do so no matter what; considering that Katherine had been forgiven for her insanity, it only made sense, considering that the women of Wisteria Lane loved Bree so much more than her. The problem was that Bree couldn't see this, like a model who can't be convinced of her own beauty.

'Oh, Bree,' she breathed, pulling the woman up to sit before holding her in a tight embrace. 'It's okay...It's okay.'

Bree only allowed a few tears to fall, which were lost in the mess of Katherine's hair after they dripped from her chin. She took in a slow, deep breath, holding her lungs full of oxygen before she exhaled. _It's not a mistake._ Her heart continued to swell, held in place only by sheer force of will. She was still a force to be reckoned with.

The embrace finally loosened, allowing the two women to look at eachother. Katherine wore a small, warm smile as she tucked a stray section of hair behind Bree's ear, ideas brewing all the while inside her head. 'Come on,' she said, rising from the bed and taking the woman's hand once again. Bree did not hesitate to get up, willing to follow as Katherine led her to the bathroom. Katherine stopped, turning to face the taller woman, her movements careful as she reached up to the top button of Bree's pajama shirt. One-by-one the buttons slipped through their holes, causing Bree to blush deeply through her pale cheeks and now-exposed chest. After the last button had been undone, Katherine pushed the soft fabric from her shoulders to reveal flawless skin, breasts that through feeding two babies had maintained a beautiful shape and fullness. She watched each breath cause the woman's chest to rise and fall, fingers blindly slipping under the elastic waistband of her pajama pants to push them to the floor. Katherine leaned over the Roman bathtub, finding a pleasant balance between hot and cold water running out of the faucet before reaching for the hem of her nightgown, only to be stopped by Bree's hand covering hers. She watched the redhead's face as she drew the fabric up over her head, dropping it on top of her own clothing. Hand-in-hand they stepped into the bathtub, the hot water sending tiny pinpricks through their nerves before it began to relax their muscles. Katherine sat with her back against the porcelain, allowing Bree to settle in, spine resting against her chest. Her fingertips pushed Bree's hair to one side, making space for her lips to meet the soft, warm flesh of her neck. Her heart skipped a beat as she heard the faintest moan escape Bree's lips. Katherine's hands slipped beneath the water, palms pressing flat against Bree's stomach, slowly caressing their way up to hold the soft weight of her breasts. She felt the woman's jaw go slack, head dropping back as her thumb rolled over a nipple.

'Does that feel good?' she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. The only answer she received was a short nod. A somewhat wicked grin flashed across her mouth for only a second before her lips returned to Bree's neck, sucking and nipping at her delicate flesh before soothing it with her tongue. She could feel Bree's hand on her knee, inching upward to gently squeeze her thigh. Katherine took in a deep breath as a rush of heat surged through her body, causing her to pull Bree even closer. While one hand continued to hold her breast, the other sank back down, ghosting delicately across the inside of Bree's thigh. The temptation to take what she wanted was all too present; she preferred to take it slow, but what could she do? Just as Bree had been so seemingly eager to follow her here, Katherine was equally helpless when it came to the woman's body. She was under so much stress because of Katherine, because perhaps their bond ran deeper than what either of them had initially thought. What was to stop her from attempting to alleviate some of that, to make her feel good again?

She gave in, her slender fingers moving to stroke Bree's core. She could feel the woman's thigh tense momentarily, head now resting against Katherine's shoulder. A single digit dipped into her heat, quickly followed by a second. Bree gasped for air, sending a rush of adrenaline through Katherine's veins. Her fingers retracted slightly before pushing back in, twisting and scissoring inside as Bree's muscles tightened around them. She kept a steady pace, clutching the redhead tighter with every movement. She could feel Bree's breath quicken, feel her body temperature rise. There was a gasp, a moan; she might have even heard her name being called in there somewhere. It set her on fire, keeping her palm firm against that searing, sensitive flesh until at last Bree could not hold out any longer. Her back arced sharply, her short fingernails digging into Katherine's thigh as her orgasm took over.

Finally she relaxed, turning somewhat awkwardly to plant a kiss on Katherine's lips. Her hand rose from out of the water, still dripping with water as her fingers sank into the woman's hair. They remained still for a moment, taking in how easy this had suddenly become. Perhaps all Bree had needed was a little push, a little nudge in the right direction. The taste she left in Katherine's mouth was sweet yet deep, like a bottle of cabernet that had just been opened. The kiss was broken, but their faces remained close enough for the tips of their noses to meet. A smile flickered from one face to the next as the water began to turn cold.

Bree rose with caution, stepping carefully out of the bathtub; there couldn't have been anything more embarrassing than slipping and falling in front of Katherine. She then offered a hand to Katherine, helping her out before she pulled the woman into a tight embrace. Her hands conformed to the shape of Katherine's shoulders, sliding down her arms and at her elbows moving to her back, fingertips meeting over her spine. Her skin was warm, smooth, inviting. She took the smaller woman's hand, returning them to the bedroom, crawling back across the mattress before she leaned in for another kiss. A soft moan escaped Katherine's throat, sending a shiver down her spine. Her fingers dropped to her hip—but stopped there. 'I don't know what I'm doing,' she finally admitted.

Katherine cocked an eyebrow as a short peal of laughter burst from her lips. 'Don't worry,' she replied, 'learning is half the fun.'


	8. Chapter 8Fin

Bree's long, cream-coloured legs folded neatly under her body. She watched Katherine with anticipation, heart racing in her chest as the woman came closer, stroking her cheek delicately as she straddled her thighs. Bree could practically feel her pupils dilating once again. Their lips met delicately at first, Katherine's need quickly beginning to take over. Her teeth sank gently into the innocent pout of Bree's lip, taking in the sweet taste of feminine flesh for only a moment before she let go. Their eyes locked. Katherine took Bree's hand in her own, guiding her touch to the place where she needed it most. She studied the redhead's face carefully, reading and re-reading her expression. Her body ached for better contact, but her mind forced her to remain still. She had to be patient now; it was Bree's turn to set the pace.

The redhead gave her a questioning glance. Without missing a beat, Katherine took her face between both palms, once again stroking her cheek with uncommon tenderness. 'Just do what feels right to you, Bree,' she whispered, a smile flickering across her face, 'and take your time. You know what to do; I know you do.'

Silence filled the space between them. A deep breath filled Bree's lungs, sending oxygen-rich blood out from her heart to intensify the feelings that had taken over every nerve in her body. Her fingertips moved delicately across the velvet flesh of Katherine Mayfair's body, as if one wrong step could cause everything to disintegrate completely. With each moment that passed she gained an ounce of bravery, adding pressure to these movements or picking up speed. She moved in circles as if she were on a racetrack, the sound of a moan escaping Katherine snapping her into a new level of awareness. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she took a moment to prepare herself, finally slipping a finger into Katherine's heat. The look on the woman's face was priceless. Bree's movements remained slow and deliberate as she retracted the long, slick digit, adding a second finger with her next thrust, keeping a steady pace as she pushed deep into Katherine.

'Yes, that—ah—that's it,' Katherine murmured. There was something so pretty, Bree, thought, about the way her jaw went slack, eyes dark with lust just before they closed, her head tilting back just enough to expose another inch of her throat. A flush of pink had crept across her flesh, beginning at the centre of her chest and moving outward, adding colour to her cheeks and causing her breasts to swell a bit. A sharp breath shot from her lungs. Her fingers moved into Bree's hair, clutching at the crimson strands as she pulled her into another kiss, this one all hunger and little refinement, if any. Tongues overlapping, wrestling for dominance; pure animal instinct, and it tasted so good. Bree's free hand flattened against Katherine's back, pulling her closer with every thrust of her fingers. A string of words came out under her breath, encouraging Bree to pick up speed. She could have sworn she heard her name a few times. It wasn't long before Katherine's heat was clenched tightly around her fingers and the woman seemed to lose all control, thrashing slightly, hips jerking forward as her orgasm took over. A hint of satisfaction washed over Bree at this point; even in all her feeble attempts to rekindle her marriage to Orson, the sex had never been like this; it rarely lasted as long, and—needless to say—had never given her this same pleasure that came from simply observing her partner. It was a beautiful thing to watch, the way Katherine's face read of an ecstasy that almost appeared to be rooted in pain, as if what really got her off was the overwhelming combination of muscle and fluid and emotion. Much passion is rooted in one form of suffering or another, after all.

As the high began to fade her eyes flickered open. The thud of her heart was dull in her chest as her gaze met Bree's. She loosened her grip on the woman's hair, gently pressing her lips to her forehead as she whispered: 'That was perfect.'

She pulled slightly back, glancing toward the daylight that glowed through the drawn curtains. It was still late-morning. The women of the lane would be out by now, talking at the speed of light about one juicy tidbit or another. Katherine didn't want to know. All she could think about was the woman in front of her, and how the unmistakable scent of sex was permeating their skin, and the fact that she only cared because Bree still had a shred of dignity left as far as any of this was concerned.

There would be no contact with those women today, if Katherine had anything to say about it. Perhaps she was being a bit rude, considering how long she had been back in town without being forced into a reunion (that in itself was a miracle), but she really had no desire to talk about what had happened with Robin any more than was absolutely necessary. No matter how she might have played it off with Bree, the truth was that she had been hurt, and deeply at that. Perhaps the only person in her life who might have understood that degree of pain was Bree. The least she could do now was spare this woman the pain of their neighbours and the little curiosities they were all guilty of: talking amongst themselves, wondering what sort of things went on when two people were behind closed doors. Especially after Katherine had sort of inadvertently outed herself. Suddenly gossip didn't quite seem like innocent fun anymore.

'Come on,' she said, her voice still gentle as she moved off of Bree, laying on her back. 'Let's just stay in bed, huh?' Within seconds the redhead was right there with her, their arms tangling together as Katherine struggled to pull the comforter over their bodies. Their noses nearly touched. Bree didn't smile, and yet she looked more content than she had in quite some time. Her cheeks still held the glow of passion. She looked divine in a more natural way than was the norm, hair splayed in a perfect mess across the pillowcase, nothing available to conceal any flaw she might possess. There was no façade; it was just Bree, and she looked exactly the way she was supposed to. Katherine couldn't resist the urge to rest her hand in the hourglass dip of her waist, giving her a gentle squeeze. She wanted to say something, but every time she worked up the courage to open her mouth—she would realize that she had no idea what it was that she wanted to say. And for this reason she kept silent, jaw slack as she took in a deep breath.

So where did they go from here? Was there anywhere to go? She didn't even know where they stood anymore; whether they were merely neighbours, friends, or something more was completely in the air. This was the problem with skipping the usual steps in courtship and hopping straight into bed, especially with another woman. There were too many emotions, too many complications to confuse things. She drew in a slow, deep breath, taking in the steadily slowing beat of her heart. Her hand moved up, lightly tracing the delicate outline of Bree's shoulder before her fingers got lost in the length of her hair; the sight of the redhead's jaw going slack like that made her heart nearly melt.

No line could be drawn today; there was no label that could be put on this. They were simply Bree and Katherine, Katherine and Bree; two women who had gotten caught up in the heat of a moment. There would be plenty of time to figure things out later. For now she could simply revel in the serenity of this bedroom, in the new calm she could see in Bree's face. 'Can I stay here, Bree?' she asked quietly, twisting a section of the redhead's vibrant locks around her finger. The air between them was silent for a moment, almost enough to make Katherine believe she had worn out her welcome. She could relax, though, when a small smile crept over the woman's face.

'As long as you'd like.'

**Fin.**


End file.
